


Take the Last Piece and Run With It

by counterheist



Series: heistverse [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, Homelessness, train station urinals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: If you still write request ficlets, could you write something from the Pasta-verse? Maybe the aftermath of Alfred and Arthur, or something with Tryggvi or Eduard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the Last Piece and Run With It

Like the last cookie on the plate, the urinal calls out to both of them. Unlike the last cookie on the plate, neither of them can break the urinal in two so as not to take the last piece. It’s rude to take the last piece. Nobody likes the guy who takes the last piece.

Tryggvi doesn’t give a shit about being That Guy or not. He elbows the other guy in the side, just below his ribs, and rushes to take the last free spot in the train station men’s while the other guy clenches his teeth and squawks in surprise. When you don’t have a lot going on for yourself, and what you do have is terrifying and unfair, being That Guy is a necessity. And Tryggvi really has to piss.

Eduard von Bock mostly wants to dodge his problems for a few minutes more, enough to miss his train, maybe, or to make his guards get bored of tailing him at least. He might be rabbity, nervous, always blinking, but taking it overall he’s boring and Braginski’s men hate having to babysit him. They prefer firefights. They are, without exception, _insane_.

Then again, Eduard is one of Braginski’s men too. When it comes down to it. Is Eduard insane?

Maybe.

Probably not, he reflects while staring down the dirty tiles beneath his boots, but maybe.

The man to the left of the elbows kid finishes first out of the row of them, and it’s poor etiquette, but Eduard takes his place anyway. All the stalls are full. Staring at the row of backs while he waits his turn for a different space to open— that would be too strange. The point of ducking into the men’s was dodging other people’s attention.

“Damn,” he hears.

A few seconds pass. The man to his right leaves. And then…

“Fucker.”

It doesn’t click until elbows kid zips up his jeans and moves to the sinks, because at that point Eduard is tucking himself back into his corduroy pants and turning, and, “Why.”

The paper dispenser is empty. Elbows kid looks too tired to say anything else, but then he does. “ _Why_.”

Eduard assumes it has something to do with poor standards of housekeeping and too much government money spent paying off Braginski, rather than putting it towards public works. Like the upkeep of train station bathrooms. But what does he know? Eduard carries hand sanitizer with him everywhere he goes. Hand sanitizer, glass-cleaning wipes, a remote hard drive, and bus money.

Being unprepared hurts. Being prepared just requires larger pockets.

Tryggvi’s pockets are full, of things that used to be in other people’s pockets, yes, but no one keeps moist towelettes in their wallets, do they? Well.

Some do.

He generally throws those out later.

His pockets can only fit so many things, and he prefers those things to be 20 Euro bills, at least. 50 Euro is better, except for when he needs to buy things for himself. Nobody ever sells things to the twitchy kid breaking out the big bills.

Maybe he could use his money to dry his hands.

And at that thought— no.

Just no.

That is a thought that Tryggvi honestly never thought he’d ever have in his entire life, not even after meeting Bonnefoy. That is a thought Tryggvi will never let himself have, because it’s the kind of thought a character has right before his downfall, all cosmic irony, and Tryggvi needs to catch a train without having a heart attack first.

The amount of money on his person suddenly feels like a rope around his neck. Tryggvi’s not going to wait for the universe to kick the horse out from underneath his feet.

Instead, he shoves his hand into the plastic bin in the corner and pulls out one of the cleaner-looking wads of paper.

He gets… looks.

Especially from the guy he shoved. Shoved guy looks at Tryggvi like he shoved his head in the bin and started eating. Shoved guy better hold onto his wallet if he knows what’s good for him.

People’s hands are already clean by the time they need a paper towel, right?

Right.

Tryggvi is mostly sure that’s right.

He doesn’t stick around to find out.

His train is leaving soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t realize until like thirty seconds ago that dudes often do not wash their hands after taking a leak. So. Let’s pretend these fine, upstanding gentlemen in this fine, upstanding restroom are the exception.


End file.
